In the halls of the healers
by thefairladyofrohan
Summary: While Eowyn battles the emotions in her heart, Faramir fights to keep the woman he was destined to love.
1. Default Chapter

The soft sound of a bird and the sweet smell of a new spring rose penetrated the hazy confusion that surrounded Faramir's mind. His confusion was deep, for a moment he did not even know who he was. Then it all began to come back to him, he remembered his father hunched over a desk reading the last letter that his brother Boromir had ever written. In his grief over Boromir's death Faramir had tried to reach out and be comforted by his father. Yet he had not received comfort that day, instead the harsh knowledge that he was not the beloved son was made even clearer to him. For it was on that fateful day that his father said the words that had remained unspoken for so long. Faramir finally realized that there would never be any hope for a better relationship with his father for the bitter truth was that Denethor wished that Boromir had lived and Faramir had died in his stead. As the memory came back to him a tear escaped from his closed eyelids and slid slowly down his cheek. Faramir cried silently until his tears finally carried him into the peaceful oblivion of a dreamless sleep.  
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The healers had never seen anything like this ever before. The girl had no visible wounds, yet was freezing to the touch and could not awaken from her frigid slumber. All of the wise ones had been consulted, and the decision was unanimous. There was nothing to be done for this poor woman. The black breath was upon her and it was merely a matter of time until she too was dead, like so many innocents who had fallen on the Pelennor Fields. They said that she had sacrificed herself nobly, for hadn't it been she who had wielded the sword that finally destroyed the witch king of Angmar. Hadn't it been she who had done what no living man could do. Still their rationalizations fell upon weak ears and even they were not convinced that she could not miraculously recover. The king certainly believed that she would live, for every day he would come and bathe her brow with a brew made from the ground up athelas plant. The brew did nothing to awaken her from her deep and frozen slumber. The only effect it had was to slightly ease her harsh and labored breaths. The healers had taken to avoiding the room that the dying Eowyn lay in, they could not stomach the harsh looks that King Elessar directed their way or the wracking sobs of Eowyn's brother Eomer. "For her" they said, "there was no hope."  
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He awoke again, this time in the dead of the night, the clear and pale moonlight floated in and rested on his pillow, and through the partially open window the stars twinkled like millions of diamonds in the dark navy blue sky. Faramir saw none of it. His eyes glazed, and saw only the memory of the doomed siege on Osgiliath. He had ridden out with banners and trumpets. He was determined to regain the river and prove to his father that he had worth. Instead of riding back in victory he had watched as his friends were slaughtered by the orcs. Faramir had stayed and fought until the end, like a true warrior of Gondor he had not given into his fear. He had been the last man to fall, and even in the face of defeat he had stood proud and tall. It was not until the arrow shot by the witch king himself penetrated his armor that he was wounded. Even as the poison of the witch king's dart seeped through his blood Faramir fought to get back to his father and his home. He was seized by the memory of the death and horror, and his screams echoed through the silent halls. Finally his own private torture ceased and Faramir fell back into a deep sleep, only this time he dreamed.  
He dreamed of an angel. She had long golden curls that swirled about her face and caught the light. She was leaning over him and whispering something. He strained to hear the sweet tones of her voice but he couldn't. All he heard was the screams of his friends as they begged for the sweet release of death. She reached to touch his face and suddenly her hand turned into the leathered clawed fist of an orc. She leaned to kiss his brow and all that Faramir could see was the fanged and rotting mouth of an orc, coming towards his face. He gasped and the dream disappeared, leaving him to rest in peace.  
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The healers scurried like rats from one room to another. There had been a fire in one of the only remaining sections of the city and most of the people trapped in there were severely burned. The healers needed every spare bed that they could get, so they made the decision to move Eowyn into the Steward's room. Since there was only one bed, the head healer tucked Eowyn in next to Faramir and left. The only sound in the quiet room was the harsh and labored breathing of Eowyn. Faramir slept peacefully as Eowyn struggled to draw each new breath.  
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Faramir awoke as the sun rose, the pale golden light of morning seeped through the open window and soaked into the white blankets covering the bed. For the first time since he had been dragged into the streets of Gondor, Faramir was free of the memory of what had been done to his friends. He turned lightly on his side and stared at the beautiful vision lying next to him. He reached out a trembling hand and laid his fingers over Eowyn's lips. Eowyn's ragged breaths quieted and for the first time she drew a deep, long breath. Faramir's face was as still as stone as two tears slipped out of the corners of his eyes and rolled silently down his cheeks. The woman lying next to him was the angel that he had seen in his dream. 


	2. chapter 2

Faintly Faramir heard the soft steps of someone coming toward the door to his room. The sun had just arisen and the pale golden light of dawn was streaming into the room, the door to the bedchamber creaked open and an exhausted young man stumbled in. Faramir didn't notice, his gaze was riveted on the pale and still form of the beautiful woman lying next to him. He slowly lifted his hand from her lips and brushed a strand of her soft silky hair away from her face. Suddenly a hoarse scream made Faramir's gaze move towards the doorway. He was astonished to see a man standing there, the man looked as if he was about to drop from exhaustion, Faramir was amazed that he was still standing. Even as Faramir was wondering who the stranger was he noticed that the man had drawn his sword. "Get your hands off of my sister or I'll cut them off myself. Who are you and what are you doing in my sister's bed? How dare you prey on her as she lies defenseless and dying? Get out before I kill you myself. Get out!" The stranger's voice had started in a low murmur and grown to an angry shout as he continued with his impassioned speech. Faramir was at a loss; he felt the weakness in his legs and knew that he would not be able to stand. He racked his brain in search for something to say to calm the man down. "Steady there. I mean your sister no harm. I woke and she was here, that was the way of it. Do not fear, I have no evil in mind. I am Faramir, son of Denethor. If I may be so bold, who are you?" Faramir's voice was harsh with disuse and sickness. The man at the door calmed visibly and lowered his sword. "I am Eomer son of Eomund and brother to the woman that lies there. Now answer me this Faramir, what are you doing in Eowyn's bed?" "I do not know. As I said, I woke and she was here. What ails your sister Eomer? What is the cause that brings one so beautiful to this place filled with so much pain?" At Faramir's words Eomer's composure broke. He slid to the floor and his muscular form wracked with the force of his sobs. Faramir watched, his large eyes filled with sympathy for the pain that Eomer must have been going through. Through Eomer's cries he was able to distinguish a few garbled words. "It's the black breath. She defeated the witch king of Angmar and in doing so gave her life. The healers say that she will not recover. All hope is lost!" Eomer gave into his weeping and Faramir sank back against the pillows. He turned to look at Eowyn and one small tear slipped down his cheek. Eowyn's condition remained unaltered; her ragged gasps rent the air and matched the sobs of her despairing brother. Unable to bear it Faramir closed his eyes and prayed that sleep would take him.  
♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦ Aragorn son of Arathorn and King of Gondor sat quietly in a chair next to the bed where Eowyn and Faramir lay. He reached out and lifted Faramir's hand. "Arise Steward of Gondor, your King wills it so." At Aragorn's words, Faramir awoke. He found himself looking up at the kind and weathered face of his king. "Your Majesty. I live to do your bidding. What is it that you command of me." Aragorn smiled, "I wish that you rest and recuperate, Faramir. For I think that I will greatly need your help in the days that come. Now sleep my friend. Sleep and recover." Faramir smiled and closed his eyes, even though he had never met the king before, he knew without a doubt that Aragorn was a good, kind man who would rule wisely and well. He closed his eyes and slipped into slumber. The dream came back. It always came back. Faramir was trapped in the horrors of his personal nightmare, unable to escape and unable to change anything, he was left completely powerless. Faramir gasped and tossed in vain, the dream took hold and all Faramir knew was the horror. The endless and unending horror of his memories.  
"Faramir!" the cry was piercing and anguished. Faramir stopped and spun around, looking for the person that was calling. "Help me! Help me! No please no! Stop! I have a wife and a child, please I'll do anything! Anything! Just let me live! No! FARAMIR!" Faramir ran, looking everywhere for his friend, everywhere he turned he heard the pain filled voice crying out his name. He was frantic, his blood surged with anger, anger that he had led his men into this slaughter, anger that he was unable to win his father's love, anger that he wasn't there for his friend, all Faramir felt was the anger. Suddenly the screams stopped, there was an eerie silence and Faramir could hear the faint sounds of the battle in the distance. Faramir ran and ran searching everywhere, fearing that behind every pile of rocks he would find the body of his friend torn and bleeding. Dreading that he would be too late. He turned and stumbled over a pile of stones, the force of his fall sent him skidding across the broken ground. Faramir rolled and climbed to his feet, his hands were torn and bleeding but he didn't care. All he saw was the body of his friend, he was lying on his back and his face was turned toward Faramir. A maze of cuts and what looked like bite marks covered the man's face, his eyes were filled with unimaginable pain. He saw Faramir and Faramir's name escaped his torn and bleeding lips in a small whisper. Faramir's eyes glazed with rage and he ran screaming towards the orc that lay crouched over his friend's broken and bleeding body. With a vicious shout, Faramir ran his sword through the orc's back. The orc looked up and turned his beady gaze towards Faramir, he snarled and blood dripped from his mouth. Then he keeled over, and Faramir withdrew his sword. He pushed the orc away and knelt at his friend's side. He looked down in horror at his friends stomach, it was ripped open and his intestines lay strewn out on the ground, with a sudden flash of realization Faramir realized that the orc had been eating his friend. Faramir turned and glanced away, trying to hold back the wave of nausea that consumed him. He looked at his friend and gazed into his pain filled eyes. The man smiled weakly then began to gasp, "Faramir, tell Mira, tell her that I love her. Tell her that I fought to stay. That I will always love my best girl. Tell her. Raise Baran right Faramir, raise him to be strong like you. Tell them that I love them, now and forever. Tell them, Faramir. Tell them." Then he gasped once more and lay silent. The pain faded from his eyes and the cloud of death covered them. Faramir sobbed. He knelt there and he sobbed. In the background the sounds of the battle grew faint. Faramir arose and a look of steely determination entered his eyes. He turned and ran, he ran towards the battle, towards the fight. And as he ran he vowed that he would slay as many orcs as possible or die trying. As he ran the tortured screams of his friend haunted him, they echoed through his mind, but Faramir kept on running, all he could do was keep running.  
Aragorn ran into the room, he had heard Faramir's screams from the hall below. He stopped short and looked into the room, fearing what he would see. Faramir was lying on the bed, his eyes open and his face frozen in horror, his hands pressed on his belly and he was shouting. "No don't die! I command you not to die! Please stay with me! I cannot lose you too! NOOOOO!" Aragorn tentatively entered the room, afraid to wake the man he had come to think of as a friend, even though they had only met that afternoon. He moved to the edge of the bed and shook Faramir's shoulder. Faramir turned and his eyes welled up with tears. He was still trapped in the nightmare. Aragorn shook his shoulder and slowly Faramir's eyes began to change.  
Faramir was pulled back into consciousness by a rough hand on his arm, then he was looking into the weary and rough face of his king. Faramir said nothing, he could feel his eyes well up with tears and he could feel the tears spill out and course down his cheeks. He silently sobbed, staring at the king's face.  
Aragorn smiled and gently laid his hand on Faramir's forehead. "Shhh... it's all right. All will be well. Trust me. All will be well." Upon hearing Aragorn's words, the tears began to flow with more force. Faramir closed his eyes and turned away. Aragorn stood and listened to the mans muffled sobs. He closed his eyes and a wave of weariness hit him. Slowly he opened his eyes and looked around the room. He noticed a chair in the corner and dragged it over to the side of the bed. Then he sat, preparing to wait out the night and keep Faramir's monsters at bay.  
Faramir heard the chair move across the floor and he heard Aragorn sit. He opened his eyes and looked at the pale face of the woman lying next to him. Her harsh breaths ripped the stillness of the air. The pale light of the moon seeped in through the window and illuminated her beautiful skin. Faramir watched and prayed that she would open her eyes and look at him. He prayed it with all his heart, but still she lay there in a deadly sleep. The only sign of life was her harsh and ragged breathing. A tear slipped out of the corner of Faramir's eye, followed by another, until soon he was crying in earnest. The night slipped away, Aragorn stood watch over the two lying in bed, Faramir silently sobbed and Eowyn gasped for air. As the night passed into day, Faramir's prayer went unanswered. 


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: Last time I checked my name is not JRR Tolkien and my literary skills are nowhere near as good as his... so beware this tale is not meant to be a mediocre copy of his work. Also I deeply regret that it took me so long to update, I promise to try harder in the future. Please read and review.  
  
The pale grey light of dawn leaked through the closed windows. The sky was overcast and bleak and the sun was hidden behind dark, gloomy clouds. The wind howled and shrieked through the barren stony halls. Faramir stood in the shadows and silently watched the still figure lying on the bed. His eyes were weary and full of torment and despair, he leaned against the wall and felt its cold strength seep into his bones. Taking a deep shaky breath he looked again at the bed, and the woman in it. In a flash he was away from the wall and kneeling by Eowyn's side. He gently took her limp hand into his own and leaned his head towards her face. "Arise fair lady." He whispered, "The time has come to join the world again. Arise"  
  
Tears slipped slowly and steadily out of his eyes and fell with silent drops onto the pale white flesh of her hand. Faramir laid his head on the bed and wept. Raising his head he turned and saw Aragorn sleeping in the chair next to the bed. He sat back and watched Aragorn as he slept. After awhile Aragorn stretched and lifted up his arms to the sky. An enormous yawn escaped from his lips and he rubbed his hands over his bleary eyes. As he turned his head he felt a spasm of pain shoot up the side of his neck. Moaning softly he placed his hand over the area and rubbed. When he turned his head again he saw the clear grey eyes of Faramir looking at him. He smiled weakly and said, "How are you this morning Faramir? Is your strength returning?" Faramir nodded and stood up. "I feel much improved sire, I think that today I will be able to leave this room for good and return to the task at hand." Aragorn smiled at the sincerity in Faramir's voice. He nodded and stood up slowly, as he reached the door of the room he turned back and said, "I will tell the healers that you have awoken and are ready for some food." He left the room and slowly walked down the hall. He had barely gone four steps when a wave of weakness washed over him, he was forced to clutch the wall for balance and as he pressed his face into the cold hard stone he knew that he didn't have enough strength to continue the fight. A tear slipped out of the corner of his eye and he drew a long harsh breath. Faintly he heard a woman's voice, speaking not in the tongue of man but in the lilting beauty of the elvish language. He spun around looking for the bearer of that voice, but the halls were bare and empty. "Arwen" he gasped, "are you there my love? Can you hear me? Arwen! Please I need you!" he sank to the floor and laid his head onto his knees. As he sat there he heard her voice say, "Hush my love. I am coming. Do not fear you will not be alone for long. Do not cease to fight Aragorn. You are the strength of the people and they need you. You have strength in you yet my love and if you look around you will see that you have strength in your companions as well. Rest my love and when you wake renew the cause and continue the fight." As her voice disappeared so did the last vestige of his strength. Weakened he slid to the floor and gasped her name.  
  
Aragorn awoke and could not recall where he was. He turned his head to the side and saw Faramir sitting beside the bed. He smiled weakly and murmured, "We seem to have switched places. I recall you being here not so long ago." Faramir chuckled and said "How are you sire? When I found you in the hall I feared the worst, you were so pale. But now you look much better, your color has improved. Rest sire and I will see about getting you something to eat." Aragorn smiled weakly and leaned his head back into the pillow. He sank into a deep slumber and did not hear Faramir slip out of the room.  
  
After his rest Aragorn was revived. He felt as if he could do anything, his strength was only enforced by the support of his friends. The only thing that marred his cheerful mood was remembering Eowyn lying cold and pale in the throes of the black breath. Aragorn was determined to beat the curse, he vowed that Eowyn would awaken before another night passed. He entered her room silently and paused in the doorway. The sight before him was so poignant that he dared not disturb it. Faramir was sitting by the side of the bed and holding Eowyn's hand in his own. He had leaned forward and was whispering into her ear. As he whispered Aragorn noticed tears dripping off of his face and onto her cheek. He sighed and Faramir spun around. Aragorn stared solemnly at Faramir and said, "It is time for Eowyn to return to the world of the living. Will you help me heal her Faramir?" Faramir nodded and squeezed Eowyn's hand. Aragorn moved to the side of the bed and placed a bowl of athelas brew on a table next to him. He dipped a cloth into the brew and slowly drew the moist material over Eowyn's face and brow. He leaned down and said in a steady voice. "I Aragorn son of Arathorn King of Gondor call you to arise Eowyn daughter of Eomund. It is time for the white lady of Rohan to return to the world of the living and leave behind the world of dreams and sleep. Fight the curse Eowyn, do not let it pull you into oblivion. Arise and speak lady your king wills it so." Faramir grasped her hand and said, "Please Eowyn arise." He squeezed her hand and placed a light kiss on her cheek. Aragorn grasped her other hand and turned to Faramir, "Faramir, get Eomer. He should be here." Faramir nodded and reluctantly let go of Eowyn's hand. He turned and walked out of the room. Aragorn watched him go and then turned back to Eowyn. He knelt down and leaned over the bed. His lips hovered over her brow and he whispered, "Come back to me Eowyn." Then his lips touched her forehead in a light kiss. When he pulled back he saw Eowyn's clear eyes looking at him. For a moment he was lost in the blue depth of her gaze and without volition his hand moved forward and brushed the side of her cheek. He was unable to stop himself and his lips came down to meet hers in a kiss. Her hands reached up and tangled in his dark hair and her lips opened under his to return his kiss passion for passion, desire for desire.  
  
Faramir was walking down the hall and as he reached the door he said, "Aragorn I couldn't find Eomer but I have another visitor for you. She says that she's your..." as he rounded the door jamb he saw Aragorn and Eowyn locked in a passionate embrace and a strangled cry left his throat. He turned and tried to block the beautiful woman with flowing black hair from entering the room but he was too late. He saw as hurt blossomed into her eyes and tears began to glisten in their jewel like depths. "Oh Aragorn" she gasped, "What have you done?" Aragorn was oblivious to his audience; he was trapped in the passion of the kiss, his tongue warred with Eowyn's and his hands moved into her hair. He broke the kiss and turned his head. As his passion glazed eyes began to clear he noticed Faramir and the woman in the doorway. The woman was crying silent tears and Faramir's eyes held a look filled with such pain that it ripped at Aragorn's heart. The woman looked at him with a look that ripped into his soul and then she turned and fled the room. "Eowyn wait!" he screamed. He tried to get to his feet but his hands were still entwined in Eowyn's hair. He pulled his hands free and stumbled away from the bed. He staggered to his feet and moved to the door. Faramir held up his hand and blocked Aragorn from leaving. "Her name is Arwen your highness, and I believe that you might have just lost her". With that Faramir turned and walked away leaving Aragorn standing in the doorway, looking after his fiancée and his friend and wondering if he had just lost his love and his friend in one reckless moment. 


End file.
